let's hear it for
by Indigo-Night-Wisp
Summary: Attolia wants to be angry. It is clear from every clench of her jaw and every cold, hard line in her face. She wants to be angry and demand that the miscreant who penned this rhyme be hung by his thumbs in her dungeon and make him burn.


**Disclaimer: i don't own the book series**

 **A/N: originally posted on my tumblr: indigo- night- wisp . tumblr . com (take out the spaces_**

* * *

 _let's hear it for_

This is what the children say:

 _There's a man who has one hand:_

 _A thief, upon the throne._

 _A hook holds fast, at last, at last,_

 _Around Attolia's throne._

Attolia wants to be angry. It is clear from every clench of her jaw and every cold, hard line in her face. She wants to be angry and demand that the miscreant who penned this rhyme be hung by his thumbs in her dungeon and make him _burn_. She wants to be angry. But–

This is what Attolia does:

She looks to her husband, Attolis by her side, for his opinion, because if she is the justice purging her land, then he is the mercy rebuilding it, and she knows better now than to take hasty action in petty revenge. She looks to Attolis and–

This is what Attolis does:

"Find me a child," he says, mysterious little spark in his eyes and lips quirking at the corners.

Teleus' mouth sours, but he goes.

A child is found, and brought to the throne room, trembling and fearful in the presence of her king and queen. She kneels, as she has been instructed by the kindhearted guard who received her from the captain. The child dares to glance up and–

This is what Eugenides does:

He leans forward on his throne and holds out a beckoning hand to the little girl kneeling on the hard stone floor. And when she comes forward, he grasps her hand in his and says, "Sing me the song you sing in the courtyards."

And she is confused, because why would he want to hear that? Certainly, he knows it all already. But the king's eyes are kind, and as she looks deep into them she knows that she would never refuse him anything he asked of her, and so–

This is what the child sings:

 _There's a man who has one hand:_

 _A thief, upon the throne._

 _A hook holds fast, at last, at last,_

 _Around Attolia's throne._

She stops, momentarily, pausing, because the queen looks murderous at his side. But he is still smiling gently, and he says, "That's not all of it."

"No," she says, "but that is all we usually say."

"Why is that?" he asks, and Attolia scowls, because he is _enjoying_ himself.

"Because, Your Majesty," the little girl says, "it is a very long rhyme."

And Attolis smiles wider, and he says, "It _is_ a very long rhyme. You have to be _very_ good a jumping rope to get to the end of it."

Attolia is actually becoming interested in spite of herself, but she covers her eyes in exasperation when her husband calls for a jump rope. She covers her eyes, but–

This is what Attolia sees:

Her king, her husband, Attolis, Eugenides, forcing guards to twirl the rope and jumping into the middle of it with the little girl as they finish the rhyme and–

This is the rhyme they sing:

 _There's a thief up on the roof,_

 _There's a thief inside the walls,_

 _There's a thief in the queen's room_

 _And walking down the halls._

 _There's a man who has one hand:_

 _A thief, upon the throne._

 _A hook holds fast, at last, at last,_

 _Around Attolia's throne._

 _Stole a country_

 _Stole a throne_

 _Stole a heart_

' _twas set in stone._

 _Stole some peace_

 _With just one hand_

 _Stole a queen_

 _With a wedding band._

The little girl drops out after the first verse, but Eugenides continues on, locking eyes with his queen and smiling a little as he jumps in the center of the whirling ropes. Attolia has long since let her hands fall from her face and she watches with something a little like understanding and a lot like amusement on her beautiful face and as Attolis finishes his rhyme and leaps neatly from the ropes, the queen of Attolia allows herself one single, brilliant, breathtaking smile and–

This is what Attolis does:

He reaches for her hand with his one, carefully turning the hook away, and draws her off her throne and down to him, presenting the awestruck child with a nod of his head and a smile. And Eugenides says to Irene as Attolis says to Attolia, "It is not an insult. It is a _tribute_."

And this is what Attolia realizes:

Her husband is a devious, wicked _child_ of a man.

Also, she suspects she has one of Gen's awful cousins to thank for this rhyme, but he is so ridiculously pleased by this limerick displaying his exploits that she has not the heart to try to change his mind.

This is what Attolia does:

She smiles and she kisses the one hand her king has left, and she places one benevolent hand upon the head of the watching child and she finally rolls her eyes and throws up her hands in something that almost resembles dramatic action and says, "Fine then. Have it your way."

The little girl goes home and the king climbs back to his throne and the ropes are taken away and the queen of Attolia spends the rest of the day humming a catchy little tune that makes her husband smile secretively into his hand.


End file.
